The Wrath of Asgard
by TheFabulousMe
Summary: If you don't like OCs, carry one with your browsing, lovely readers. Twenty years after the events of The Avengers, the Team starts disappearing one by one without a trace. It's up to their children to figure out what's going on, and maybe to save the world at the same time. Joy. Except for one thing; How are they supposed to save the world, exactly? Rating subject to change.
1. Oh Where Oh Where Has Natasha Gone

**Author's note: I'll warn you again; OCs ahead, mateys. No turning back now. Read and enjoy! More to come!  
**

_I'd like to let you know right now that none of this was my idea._

_I wouldn't even be writing this down unless SHIELD wasn't making me do so. Just getting the facts straight, recording the real story for future generations, blah blah blah. I'm technically not even a SHIELD agent, but no one bothered listening to that bit. They just kind of shoved a computer in front of me and told me to get typing._

_Well, I guess I should say "us". All eight of us are here, filling in tiny details and reviving memories we wouldn't have thought of otherwise. Nik's going to be doing a lot of this report, apparently, because he pushed his way to the front of this little teenage huddle and is currently trying to narrate it for me. Knock it off, sensei._

_Now he's glaring at me. I'm not sure if it's because I'm getting off topic or if I just tried to call him a ninja (which he insists he's not), but we should probably start from the beginning._

_My name is Tara, daughter of Tony Stark, and these are my best friends; Nik, Sky, Sage, Jeremy, Hel, Mary Anne, and Travis. We're here to tell you why you should never, ever tick off the Norse Gods._

Nik emerged from the practice room with smoking, recently-on-fire hair and a smirk on his face. He tossed the fake computer chip to his boss and plopped himself down in a swivel chair.

"And that, sis, is how you run a Level 10 training course," he said.

"I know, I know!" Skylar growled, unusually cranky as she fidgeted in her own chair. Their friend and fellow agent Michael Coulson sighed.

"Sky, if you don't sit still you're going to make it worse!" he exclaimed, referring to her dislocated shoulder. One little slip off a ledge onto a metal floor could do quite a bit of damage, apparently.

As Michael set Sky's shoulder, Nik turned to the computers to check his results, which he didn't really need to do, having been keeping track in his head, but seeing it in black in white led to quite the sense of accomplishment.

Nik let out a low whistle. "You've got to admit Alexander, 4.23 minutes is a pretty impressive time."

His boss nodded. "You could do better, though. Up for another run?"

The final agent in the room shook her head as she typed furiously on her keyboard. "Not today, boss," chirped Gwendolyn Fury. "Sky and Nik broke all the training robots."

Alexander sighed. "Again? We just got three dozen shipped in last week!"

"Well, we're going to have to order more," said the soft-spoken, tech-savvy granddaughter of the late SHIELD director.

Alexander rubbed his brow. "Director Hill is not going to be happy about this."

"Dude, you know you're allowed to acknowledge that she's your mom, right?" asked Michael, now off of med duty and polishing his gun collection.

"It's true. The rule book doesn't say that you cannot acknowledge family members in the workplace," said Gwen, who was surprising knowledgeable for an 11-year-old.

"It's unprofessional," Alexander insisted. "And as Training Director—"

"Oh, cut it with the whole 'I'm a cool guy because I have a cool job and you all have to listen to me' thing," Sky said, rolling her eyes. "Really Xander, you're, like, 4 months older than us."

"_Alexander_," he corrected, bringing on another eye roll. "And you know how important this job is to me. If I don't take this seriously, I'm practically back to the kids table, and that's about as challenging as working a cashier."

He straightened his standard-issue Co-Director uniform and smoothed back his short dark hair. "Well, if we can't run the practice room, we could at least get some sparring done today."

"With stun guns?" inquired a trigger-happy Michael.

"No stun guns."

"Bleh."

Three hours, four cuts, and at least seventeen bruises later, Nik and Sky shuffled into their house, promptly collapsing on the couches in exaggerated exhaustion. Their father, who was dancing around the kitchen making waffles (as part of what appeared to be a breakfast-for-dinner situation) and blasting the _Wicked_ soundtrack, expertly lowered the music volume while still dishing batter into the waffle iron. He leaned against the marble countertop and switched into Super Mega Stereotypical Dad Mode.

The appropriate cliché for this scenario was, as he phrased it, "So how was training?"

Nik and Sky let out very Twin-ley exasperated groans in unison, which they were allowed to do, seeing as they actually were twins.

Their father whistled. "That bad, huh?"

Sky lifted her head "I dislocated my shoulder," She said before letting her head flop back down on the cushions.

"Again," Nik added.

"You know," he began, "back when I was in SHIELD training, I never—"

"Yes," Sky interrupted "the great and powerful Hawkeye, Archer of Justice never fell off of anything. Ever."

Clint Barton shook his head in amusement. "I always knew you were a sharp kid. Also, the 'Archer of Justice' is new."

"If you'll excuse me," Sky said, tossing long flowing curls that she didn't have. "I'll be in my room, doing something of importance." She flounced out of the room. The boys watched her white-blond head disappear down the hall and heard her take the stairs two at a time.

"What's her problem?" Clint asked.

"We made her leave for training during the climax of her book."

"Ahh. Makes sense."

Nik surveyed the the countertop. Frozen hash browns, a carton of eggs, some orange juice, and… a box of spaghetti. He sighed internally. At least he tried. Clint Barton was never much of a chef, and it didn't run in the family either. Sky burned everything she touched, and the best Nik could do was whip up a batch of mac 'n cheese. At least their mom could throw together a balanced and decent meal once in a while. But even if she could find time to cook while on a mission, which was currently occupying her time, there's no way she would be able to ship it to them in 20 minutes or less from Norway.

About halfway through an episode of The Ouran High School Host Club (his guilty pleasure), a knock came from their front door. A very military knock. Three taps, on the knuckles, in a rhythm typically used in SHIELD to silently signify very, very bad news.

His father just barely beat him to the door, wiping his batter-covered hands on his "Eat the Rude" apron before pulling the door open. A young man around his thirties stood stiffly in SHIELD uniform on their front stoop, awkwardly shifting from side to side. A dark car idled on the curb, waiting. A dark car with a black flag swaying in the breeze on the hood.

"Mr. Clint Barton?" the young man asked.

"Yes," said his father, aware of how grave this news would be.

"I have a message for you from Director Hill of SHIELD."

With slightly trembling hands, Clint took the letter and shut the door, but Nik heard what the man had started to say before the door closed.

He had said, "We're very sorry for your loss."

It was only a matter of moments before the envelope was open. Clint read it, again and again, over and over, probably memorizing every word, or trying to make sense of what he was reading. His hands shook, and his fingers dropped the paper as he untied his apron. He hung his apron on the banister of the stairs and mumbled something like "I have to go," before rushing up the stairs, leaving the waffles to burn. Nik heard the door leading to his father's custom-made lookout open and slam shut.

He reached for the paper, skimming it quickly as he tried to catch himself up. _Agent Natasha Barton…lost signal…presumed dead…_

Clutching the paper tightly in his hand, he barreled up the stairs, bursting into Skylar's room. He found his twin sitting upside down in her beanbag chair, engrossed near the end of her book.

"Sky."

"Dude, not now. This is a really important part."

"Sky."

She looked up, clearly annoyed. "Shut up! I think Jace and Clary might be—"

"SKYLAR LOUISE BARTON!"

Sky grasped the tremble in his voice, the shake of his hands, the worry in his eyes. She gently set her book on the floor and turned herself rightside up. "Yeah?"

"Mom's been compromised."

Clint sat on the floor of his lookout tower. When they built the house, they had made it especially for him, rising a full story above the rest of the house, open air with a wooden fence to prevent accidents and a spiral staircase leading up to it. It would have been quite the sight for neighbors to behold, if they had any neighbors.

He stared intently at a picture in his hand. It was of Natasha and himself on their wedding night, on the rare occasion that she had allowed herself to be seen smiling on camera. They had made the wedding as quiet as possible. Well, as quiet as it could be when you invited Tony Stark to an event featuring alcohol. Pepper had kept him in line, mostly.

It was very low-key. Little church, little town, an old pastor sworn to secrecy. Twenty undercover guards posted in various positions within a 75-foot radius. The usual. There was, excluding themselves, only nine people invited; Tony and Pepper, Bruce, Thor and Jane, Steve, Fury, Maria Hill, and Phil Coulson, whom they were overjoyed to find he had survived the attack after all. Clint had wanted to invite Loki too, as a joke, but common sense had won over pretty quickly.

He always kept this picture with him. It was such a great memory, the best day of his life. Becoming a Dad was a close second. Technically, he was never supposed to have a picture with him, especially on the job. Someone could find it and figure out his connection to her, which would wreck any chances they had of success on a mission, especially if they were playing strangers. But Natasha. She looked so overjoyed in the photo, so full of life that she looked like she was glowing. It was hard to believe that what they said had happened, happened.

"You never told me that it was this bad, Tasha," he whispered to the photo. "When I was compromised. Then again, you knew I wasn't, well, you know."

He choked up. It was becoming hard to talk, but he pushed on. "I hope you come home soon. You know I can't cook a decent meal, and the kids need that once in a while. They need you, Tash. _I_ need you. You're my world.

"Please come home."

Maybe it was his emotional state, or maybe he was out of practice, but he didn't hear the footsteps behind him until it was too late. He turned, expecting to find one of his children. But it wasn't them.

He didn't even have time to cry out before the stranger in front of him touched his forehead and he blacked out.


	2. That Irritating Chick Plays Run Cow, Run

It was a few days later when they received the call. They had been lounging about for a long while, fighting off boredom as best as they could. SHIELD had insisted that they take a break from training for a while on account of grief. Needless to say, they didn't really have a whole lot to do. There wasn't even a body to bury, and their dad had evidently gone out to the woods behind their house for a few days for some space. He did that sometimes. He could survive for weeks with just his bow and a hunting knife. Neither of the twins had seen him since they got the news.

They were sprawled out on the couches in their living room, switching between watching old reruns of I Love Lucy and Sabrina the Teenage Witch.

"She's not dead, you know. Mom," Sky said suddenly, pausing the TV.

"What?"

"I said she's not dead. Just missing."

"They couldn't pick up her tracking signal. That thing is embedded in her skin, Sky. There's no way that anyone could have gotten it out without SHIELD picking something up. It's like she dropped off the face of the planet."

"Look, I know it sounds crazy, or overly optimistic, or both. But she's alive. I can feel it," she said, pressing play and letting the canned laughter roll back in.

For some reason, Nik believed her. Sky was smart and empathetic. Most of the time, she knew what she was talking about.

His sister was about five foot eight, just a few inches shorter than him. She was almost as skilled with a bow as her father, and had just grown out of the lanky-growthspurt years. Her pale oval face was sprinkled with freckles, and she had a tiny nose piercing to compliment the insane amount of studs in her ears. Her pure white hair was parted to the side, close cropped on her smaller left side and short but spiked on her right, and her violet eyes shone when she talked about things that she loved.

Her hair wasn't dyed, she didn't wear colored contacts, and she wasn't adopted.

It was Loki. Sixteen years before, Loki waged war against the world for a second time, mere hours after they were born. Natasha was asleep with medication. Without it, she probably would have gone outside to help, and would have been in no shape to do so. She'd been in labor for seventeen hours, and Nik and Sky weren't exactly preemies.

From what they heard, the Second Battle of Manhattan had been total chaos. So, naturally, no one noticed the trickster god sneak into the maternity ward, where Nik and Sky lay sleeping. For revenge, or maybe just to try and spite the Bartons, Loki had tried to kill the twins. He had started with the girl.

It was worry that saved them. Hawkeye could feel that something was horribly wrong. He'd rushed to the hospital to check on his family. If he had gotten there just minutes later, Loki would have moved onto Nik, and both of his children would have been dead. As it was, Clint ran in to find Loki hovering over the children's cradle, and didn't hesitate to shoot. But the god vanished into thin air, to be captured later.

Sky had been born with dark hair and her father's gray-blue eyes. But in the aftermath of Loki's assassination attempt by black magic, her hair had turned bright white, and her eyes a light violet. As his father used to say to her, the color of magic things.

They say as he held his children close that day, grateful for their very lives, that his young daughter was as cold as winter. As sleeping babies, she would cuddle up to her brother, with his mother's bright red curls and sharp green eyes. They were always a pair, going hand in hand wherever they went, with his head ablaze and hers dusted with frost, looking for all the world like fire and ice.

The phone rang, just two rings, and stopped. Then it rang again. It was another code that SHIELD had set up a long time ago, to signify an important phone call. A really important phone call.

"Got it!" they yelled at the same time, both rushing towards the phone where it hung from its hook on the wall. Sky slid across the linoleum floor on her socked feet, but Nik got a momentum advantage when he vaulted the table. He usually won, anyway, although it was always a close call.

"Hello?" he asked, trying to keep Sky from grabbing the phone.

Nik heard Michael's voice on the end of the line. "We need you to come in."

"What? I thought they didn't want us in until Thursday."

"Well, they want you now." Before Nik could ask why, Michael answered. "You'll definitely want to check this out. It has to do with your mom."

His blood ran cold. "Is she—"

"We don't know. Just come in, okay?"

Five minutes later, the twins were in full uniform and out the door.

"As you might know, we sent in another agent to try to finish Natasha's mission in Norway," said Alexander as they strode down the hallway to the command room.

"Who?" asked Nik. He liked to know all the details.

"Agent Steve Rogers."

"What, you sent Captain America in for a surveillance mission?" said Sky. "That sounds a little too easy for the man out of time. Plus, wasn't he on temporary leave after he had that incident with the Asgard visit last month?"

"Yeah, he was on a paid vacation since September 18th, the day after he came back from a trip to Asgard with his daughter, who we thought would be a good trainee. Good genetics, after all. Long story short, he got some down time after a few serious frost giant burns, and his daughter was scared to death of everything. She couldn't even go near the weapons storage.

"Anyway, we had to call him in early because no one else was willing to do it. One of our top agents disappears on a seemingly normal mission with some weird markings, and suddenly everyone's a wuss."

"Wait, weird markings?" asked Nik. "How weird that you couldn't tell us about them?"

"Like, dead language, black magic looking weird. Around the ground in a circle where we last had her signal."

"And you didn't think that this was important enough to tell us?" said an exasperated Skylar.

"We didn't think it was important at all, until earlier today," explained Alexander. "Like we said, we sent in Rogers to Norway, where your mom left off. He was in a totally different place, following a different lead, when suddenly, poof."

"Poof?"

"Yes. Poof. As in vanished. Gone . Disappeared exactly the same way as Barton. That's when we decided that something freaky was going on, so we decided to some more digging."

By then they had reached the command room, a spacious area with floor-to-ceiling screens and dozens of rows of high tech computers. A large conference table rested on a platform close to the giant double doors. Nowadays, SHIELD HQ was dozens of floors underneath a run-down Goodwill. Nik, Sky, and Alexander stopped at the conference table.

"Check this out," said Hill, as he tapped and swiped at the huge touch screen computer that was the table's surface. In a few moments, they had a picture of a brick cobblestone courtyard, with dappled grey stones and moss growing in between the cracks. There, in a circular patterned not unlike the shape of a CD, were dozens of ancient symbols that seemed to give off an air of foreboding, even from a photograph. The runes looked burned into the stone.

"This was where we last had Barton's signal, and here," he said, pulling up another picture, "is where we last had track of Rogers." This picture showed a grassy plain, with same conditions. Those markings were definitely burned into the ground.

"They're exactly the same patterns. Same shape. Totally identical," noted Sky.

Alexander nodded. "This was definitely no coincidence."

"You're all correct," a voice said them said. They turned to find a tall, dark haired, regal looking woman in a dark jumpsuit walking towards them. Director Maria Hill, Alexander's mom.

She stopped next to them and turned to Alexander. "I'll take it from here, kiddo," she said. Alexander nodded and walked away as his earpiece rang.

"Hill," he answered. After a moments pause, they could hear him exclaim "What do you mean it's caught fire?" as he began to sprint down the hall.

"With all due respect, Director Hill," Nik carefully worded, "I don't really see what this has to do with us. Those markings are no language I know, and I know them all."

"That's the thing," she said. "That's not even a language we can identify. The closest thing that we can find to it is Ancient Norse. We've already been in contact with Asgard, and Thor patched us through to their best scholars. Not one of them had any idea what we were dealing with.

"For that reason, we've turned to our next best option; trying to recover our agents' lost signal. That's where you two come in. We need you to get into contact with Stark."

"Like, Tony Stark?" asked Sky. "The man hasn't been heard from in ten years. Ever since—"

Nik interrupted. "But his daughter has, correct?"

"Precisely," Hill nodded. "We need you to go to Stark Industries in its new location in Buffalo, New York, and bring Tara Stark back to base. She hasn't been responding to any of our messages, and we suspect that the best response will be to actual agents. We have equipment here that she can use. We fear that she may be the only one advanced enough in the field of technology to somehow pick up a signal. It could be our only hope for recovering Rogers and your mother."

The twins walked through the huge glass double doors of Stark Industries about an hour later. The place was huge, with a giant domed stone ceiling reminiscent of an observatory. A rounded machine about the size of a two-story house sat dead in the middle of an empty lobby, not unlike an arc reactor. It was rimmed by a raised platform running all the way around, several feet above the ground, and computers and machines that would take ages to figure out were crowded in the limited space, along with a large mahogany desk. Technology lined the walls, all unmanned. In fact, the only person in sight was a girl sitting at the desk in a swivel chair facing away from the doors. Her feet were propped up on the desk, she wore casual blue jeans and red converse shoes, and fiddled around with what looked like an iPad but was probably Stark Brand tech.

Sky strode forward and hit the "Ring for Service" bell on the floor of the platform, which was probably put there as a joke.

"If it's the New York Times, tell them no. I don't care what they're asking," the girl said smartly. Her shoulder-length black hair had a golden streak on the right side, and she appeared to be playing a game that involved an unusually graceful cartoon cow jumping over bundles of hay."

"Um, we're not the times," said Sky. "We were sent by—"

"Joel Border? From down the street? Tell him that Ms. Stark is, in fact, allergic to Red Lobster and movie dates, but give him this number, the poor kid." With the skill that only a professional troublemaker can achieve, she grabbed a paper airplane from its perch on a nearby desk and tossed it backwards to them. A phone number was written in red ink on the inside.

"In actuality, that's the Rejection Hotline number, but don't tell him that. That's rude."

Sky huffed as she crumpled the paper into a ball. She was becoming unusually grumpy with this girl. "_In actuality_," she mimicked, "we're here on behalf of SHIELD."

"SHIELD? Oh yeah. Tell Hill that I'm emailing Ms. Stark that order of custom chips right now," said the girl, as she tapped the screen, making the cow gracefully jump over a salt lick, release a pig from a cage, and dodge the odd-looking farmer's pitchfork in one nimble motion. Despite how impressive that was, it was certainly not computer chip work.

"We're not here about the computer chips!" Sky yelled, her voice becoming more and more urgent. He knew why now; Tara Stark, if they could find her, could be the only way to track their mother's signal and get her home safe again. "We're here about the Avengers."

"And she should care because…?"

A gunshot rang out in the stone room. The bullet in question hit the wall, bounced around a few times (narrowly avoiding what was surely very expensive technology), and skimmed the top of the girl's shoe before lodging itself in the bulls-eye of a dart board that hung on a nearby bulletin board.

The girl froze, but didn't flinch. The cartoon cow ran into a pile of wood.

Very slowly, the girl lowered her feet from the desk and turned around. She was strikingly beautiful, with a button nose, dark hair framing her face, and luminous gold eyes. She appeared bored and uninterested, even though a bullet had just missed her, but her eyes shined with curiosity.

"That was a little uncalled for," she said, addressing Nik. Apparently she wasn't too stupid to figure out who fired the shot.

"Seemed totally called for, considering," he coldly retorted.

The girl smiled a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "My name is Tara Stark, and I am officially not interested in joining your Initiative."

"With all due respect, Ms. Stark," he said. "We aren't asking you to join the Avengers Initiative. We're asking you to save it."


	3. Attack of the Whatever-These-Are

**Author's Note: Well, it's about time I figured out how to work editing properly. I _did_**** have an author's note for the last chapter, but it didn't save or something. I don't know. In short, I had the idea for Sky's name before Agents of SHIELD came out. **

**The Avengers don't belong to me, but their kids sure do.**

Hours later, they had gotten nowhere. They were back at SHIELD HQ, in a small, tech-cramped room. Tara typed furiously on her keyboard, and sent Michael on more trips to get this that and the other thing that Nik had almost lost count. Thirty-seven times, to be exact. He did say almost.

By one a.m. they were all tired and bored beyond their minds, but determined. With a mechanical genius on their side, progress would go a lot quicker. While Sky perched on top of a stack of amplifiers—really, was this just a storage room?—playing pokemon, Nik leaned with one shoulder against a wall, calling out suggestions and facts when Tara asked for them while he carved a dog out of a spare hunk of wood with his hunting knife. Alexander leaned back in his swivel chair, blanking out and staring at the ceiling, and Gwen was trying her best to keep awake, blinking for long periods of time as she rested her head on Alexander's shoulder. They had spent so much time together over the years that Gwen had to restrain herself from calling him her brother.

After a while, Alexander ruffled Gwen's hair and said "Why don't you go home, kiddo. It's been a long day, and you're pretty tired."

"Nuh-uh, I'm not tired," she yawned drastically. Her speech slurred with exhaustion. "I wanna stay. I'll get some coffee or somethin…" With what appeared to be great effort, she hauled herself up from her chair and disappeared down the hall.

"Cute kid," Tara chuckled.

"Yeah," Nik said. "She's tough, and the best techie we have. She's like a little sister. We're lucky to have her."

"What, one sister isn't good enough?" Sky joked, crumpling a nearby paper into a ball and throwing him, fastpitch style. He deflected it easily, grinning.

Tara shushed them loudly, typing with even more vigor than usual. Alexander perked up in his chair, and Sky shut her DS with a snap. You could hear a pebble hit the linoleum with the silence that filled the room.

"I've almost got them," Tara muttered. "I'm so close. If I can pin down the—" then the screen turned dark. Tara slammed her fist on the desk in anger and cursed. Just a moment later, her eyes widened. They all stiffened. The computer shook and smoked from the control panel.

Then it got even weirder. A black lightning flickered around the monitor. It expanded until it filled the room with its static. A high pitched buzz filled their ears. It was going to blow.

"Get down!" Nik barked. Without a moments hesitation, Sky leaped from her perch behind a wall of boxes, where she was soon joined by Alexander. Nik tackled Tara from her chair, pushing her to the floor to shield her from what came next.

What came next turned out to be a massive explosion. The computer burst into thousands of razor-sharp metal bits, which lodged themselves in every available surface; the walls, the ceilings, the boxes and amplifiers, and Nik.

The room filled with dark smog, but the worst had passed. Nik pushed himself off of the Tara, coughing. Sky and Alexander peeked over their makeshift wall. Tara sat straight up, craning her neck to get a full scope of the ruined room and computer.

"I hope insurance covers this," she remarked.

There was a thunk as a stack of full Styrofoam cups fell to the ground. Coffee spread in a puddle across the floor as Gwen gaped at the destruction.

"What did you do to my computer?" she gasped.

"It was an accident, G. Promise," said Alexander. "Hey Nik, you alright?"

For some reason, Nik grinned. "Not a scratch."

Sky turned to Gwen, grinning nervously. "Well, now we know that the shrapnel-proof vest works."

"We also know," said Tara, brushing rubble out of her dark hair, "that someone wants us to give up the search."

Luckily, Stark Tower was a few short New York City blocks from SHIELD's Goodwill location. They didn't even have to take a car. Although it was 2 in the morning by the time that they left for the Tower, a prime time for crime, they did happen to have two assassins escorting the genius home, so they were as safe as they possibly could be.

"So, I thought the Stark place was in California?" said Sky, as they walked three-by-three down the sidewalk, shooting glares at anyone who looked at them crooked.

"Yeah, it was. Still is, technically, although I haven't been there in years. I've lived in the Tower since I was three. Our California house is just a place where they lived, you know? I guess Dad wanted to live in the Tower after it happened. Maybe because 12% was hers."

They walked in silence. The twins didn't have to ask what "it" was. They already knew.

The hairs on the back of Nik's neck stood on end. He felt like they were being watched, and not in the usual New York City at Night way. Like a raw hunger, so powerful that it couldn't be from this world.

With force great enough to dent a monster truck, Nik was shoved into an alley by a huge, barreling object. He was knocked to the ground, senseless and out of breath for a moment. A giant creature the size of a bear pinned his shoulders to the asphalt, a smell like carrion filling the air from its foul breath. Its head was mere inches from Nik's but he couldn't see its face, mainly because it didn't have one.

Where his face should have been—where all of it should have been—was nothing but swirling black smoke-like material. The beast was made of pure shadow, and it was going to tear him apart.

He heard Sky and Tara yelling, chased into the alley as well. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sky hitting a shadow serpent with her retractable bow, and Tara—well, he really didn't know what Tara was doing. She seemed to be shooting at an oversized falcon-thing, but she didn't seem to use a gun of any kind.

Nik really didn't have the time to investigate further, due to the giant thing on his chest, which he decided looked kind of like a lion. Not that it mattered, of course. What mattered was getting the dang thing off of him.

He curled his legs to his gut, shoving his feet into the lion's stomach and hurling it off. Scrambling to his feet, he drew his guns as the lion pushed himself off the ground and stalked him, growling from deep in its throat. The two circled each other in the alley's narrow space, like a deadly wrestling match.

Nik flicked off the safety on his guns, which the shadow didn't seem to like at all. It lunged while Nik had approximately 2.3 seconds to aim. If he missed, the bullets would most likely ricochet of the brick walls, with a good chance that it would hit one of them, and that was not exactly a goal of his.

He fired just as he could smell the lion's rotting-meat breath. He fired a few rounds into the thing's heart while his other hand shot bullets into the thing's skull. As the lion dissolved into shadow, one of its claws reached out and raked across Nik's cheek. He wouldn't have even noticed, if he didn't feel blood trickling down his face and the excruciation pain that came after.

Pain exploded from the cut, and Nik fell to his knees, nearly overwhelmed. It felt like someone was branding his skin with a hot knife, which he'd never actually felt before but he imagined was probably not a very good thing to experience.

Sky had managed to defeat her own opponent as well, in the simplest way that she could; wrestling it into submission (while taking great care around the fangs), stepping on its throat, and slicing off it's shadowy head with her handy-dandy knife that she kept in her boot for emergencies. This qualified as an emergency.

Tara, however, was in a bit of a tight spot. The bird was much nimbler than she'd first thought, and none of her blasts seemed to connect. Then, just as soon as it had appeared, it was gone. Vanished. Into thin air.

"Well, that was unpleasant," she noted, quite obviously. Sky nodded in agreement. Nik could only groan.

Just as they were regrouping, Tara was lifted off the ground with a cry. The falcon had returned, and had wrapped it's talons around her biceps. It flapped its wings without difficulty, lifting his captive off the ground. It appeared quite intent to carry Tara away, and wherever it was taking her was sure to be unpleasant. Tara kicked and lashed out with her arms, but she couldn't bend her wrists to shoot at it.

Sky cursed, fumbling through her backpack for her quiver. What, was she supposed to waltz around the city with a canister full of arrows strapped to her back? No, thank you.

Skylar took aim as the Falcon carried Tara far off the ground with terrifying speed. If she didn't shoot now, she'd loose her chance. She fired.

She didn't think, of course, how the genius was supposed to reach the ground without becoming a grease spot on the pavement. Sky was more focused on actually getting her _to_ the pavement.

As it turned out, she needn't have worried at all. Tara held her arms straight out at her sides, and, in little blasts of fire, gently lowered herself bit by bit until her feet were safely on the asphalt.

Tara held up her wrist and pushed back the sleeve of her sweater. Adorning her wrist and hand was a metallic contraption forming a white-hot circle on her palm. It wrapped around her hands and thumb and wrist, making it look like a metal fingerless glove. As Sky watched, the glove retreated on itself, folding up until it was a bracelet hugging Tara's wrist perfectly, looking not unlike a chain mail friendship bracelet.

Stark answered Barton's question before she even asked it. "Iron Man repulsor technology minimized, for on-the-go blastin'," she said. "This offer is definitely not available in stores."

Sky nodded. "That would definitely require some clean-up in aisle four."

As the two snickered, Nik groaned in pain, effectively getting the girls' attention. "Bleeding over here. Don't mind me."

"It's not that bad," said his sister, although she came over to check on him anyway. "You've had worse. Remember that one time Xander made us spar with broadswords?" She laughed slightly, her giggle fading as she saw is face.

He couldn't see what he looked like (obviously, since it was his own face), but he imagined he looked pretty bad. He could feel blood seeping down his face and staining the collar of his sweater, and sweat beaded his forehead. He felt hot and feverish, and Nik could imagine how pale his face must have been.

But Sky saw the worst of it. Her brother's cut was bleeding far too much to be a normal scrape, and it didn't even look too deep. But the worst part wasn't the cut itself; it was the skin around it. It was puffy and black, the same shade as those shadow monsters. Whatever poison was putting him through this much pain was spreading. His veins popped around the area, dark liquid visible in his veins through the skin.

"Can—can you walk?" Sky asked softly. Nik struggled to stand, but his face grew even paler and his jaw clenched so hard that she wouldn't have been surprised if he broke his teeth. He shook his head vigorously.

Tara and Sky supported Nik between them, his arms wrapped around their shoulders as they half dragged, half helped him along the city blocks. But by the time they reached the Tower, the darkness in his veins had vanished.


	4. In Which Nik is Assaulted by a Book

**Author's note: I SCREWED UP I CAN'T SPELL I CAN'T SPELL TO SAVE MY LIFE HOW COULD YOU GUYS LET ME SPELL ASGARD WRONG**

**So, anyway, anyway, that's fixed. And hey, new icon! Woot! Kind of a short chapter today, sorry. Anywho, R&R lovelies!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, but the rights to them would make a flawless Christmas present! *wink hint***

Nik sat on the counter of the Stark Tower's living room bar as Tara shone a much-too-bright flashlight into his eyes. Only minutes after the attack, he felt fine. Other than a dull throb from the cut on his cheek, which was now disinfected and bandaged, he had no proof that it even happened. Well, except for the fact that he was in a makeshift medical exam.

"Are you sure you aren't feeling woozy? Seasick? Intestines on fire?" said Stark as she checked his pulse.

"I'm telling you, I feel fine," he replied. Unsatisfied, Tara grabbed a nearby hardback book and brought it down hard on his knee. With a cry of pain, his foot shot up, barely missing Sky's stomach. His sister jumped back, just managing to avoid spilling the decaf coffee she was cradling.

"What was that for?" they angrily cried.

"Reflexes are fine," Tara said to herself, oblivious to the fact that she had just ticked off two highly trained SHIELD agents who could probably kill her with a flip-flop. She jotted something down on a piece of notebook paper that lay on the counter. In the last twenty minutes, she had enough written down to write a pamphlet on "The Effects of Shadow Beast Poison on Teenage Assassins".

She extracted a small needle from her first-aid kit and brandished it with ease. "I'll need a blood test, just to be sure." Nik rolled his eyes, but pushed up his sleeve regardless. With the skill of a medical officer, she slipped the needle into the crook of his arm, drawing blood that showed absolutely no trace of the black poison that was there before.

"Where'd you learn to draw blood so well?" Nik asked as she neatly squirted the blood sample into a test tube and capped it with a rubber stopper.

"I've used a needle on myself bunches of times. It's not all that hard after a while." At their concerned faces, she rolled her eyes. "I'm not a druggie, promise. I've just done my own medical work for a while. Going to the doctor's office gets pretty tedious when you can do it yourself better and for free."

Not asking questions was probably a good idea. If she could do her own first-aid, she was probably capable of patching Nik up.

"It's getting pretty late," Sky noticed, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Well, early, if you want to be specific. Is two thirty a.m. classified as morning or night?"

Tara paused from packing up her kit. "It would be about one thirty in Mexico City right now, right?"

"Just about," Nik said, sliding off the counter and rolling his sleeve back down. "Why do you ask?"

Tara ignored him and continued talking to herself. "He might still be out," she muttered, pulling her Stark brand cell phone out of her jeans pocket and dialed a number she obviously knew by heart. After a few rings, the voice on the other end picked up.

"Tara? It's a little late to call, isn't it?" the voice said in a rushed tone.

"Yeah, but it's important. Promise," she said. The voice on the other end sounded out of breath. "Are you okay over there?"

"Kiddo, I'm going to have to call you back." The line went dead. Tara sighed, tossing her phone onto the counter and leaning against it, a distracted look in her eyes.

"So, are you ever going to tell us what's going on or what?" Sky asked.

Tara's head snapped up. "Hm? Oh, just a family friend I need to talk to."

The three stood in uncomfortable silence.

"So, my guess is that it wouldn't be a good idea for you two to try to go back to your own house tonight," Tara said.

The twins nodded. "It would be like asking for another attack," Nik agreed.

"Plus, whoever sent them was probably monitoring the fight," Sky thought aloud. "Whoever it was knows how we fight now, and just how good we are. The next attack, if there is one, will be stronger."

Tara sighed. "Well, at least we know we have someone to fight. Shadow beasts don't just create themselves. Someone wants us dead.

"On that happy note, I'm hitting the hay. JARVIS?"

"Yes, Tara?" chirped a voice that didn't really seem limited to the ceiling or walls. It was like it was the building itself.

"Can we get these guys some clothes that aren't SHIELD uniforms?"

After only a moment, a panel in the ceiling slid away and two bundles of neatly folded clothes fell to the floor. Upon picking them up, the siblings discovered that the clothes were exactly their sizes.

"Pretty neat, huh? I've had that delivery system installed for years, in case the Tower has to house any refugees," Tara said, dang proud of herself.

Her phone vibrated from its perch on the counter. She picked up immediately.

"Let me guess;" Tara said. "You just got attacked by some animals that weren't animals, right?"

"Just about," said the voice, breathing heavily.

"Same thing happened on my side. I'm fine, and so are the Bartons. They're here with me. Well, Sky and Nik, anyway. Did you hear about the Widow and Cap?"

"What do you mean?"

"They were on missions in Norway, and they just disappeared. Gone. Now, after our attack, we don't really think it'll be safe for anyone who even knew the team."

"Natasha and Steve are… Gone?" the voice said in disbelief. "I can't believe it."

"Yeah, not exactly uplifting. Anyway, how soon can you get to New York? I have the Tower reinforced for this sort of thing."

There was some grumbling on the other end of the line about flying all the way around North America.

"Alright, we'll be there as soon as we can, probably tomorrow. Sage and I have to find some plane tickets that aren't for the back of a cargo plane, which is about all we can muster up before six o' clock."

"Who?" Tara asked innocently, although she already knew.

"Sage, Tara. My, you know, _daughter_? The one you've known for years? You were pen pals when you were six!"

"Oh yeah, Sage. I remember now. Good times," Tara said as she rolled her eyes and made gagging motions. Sky snickered.

"See you tomorrow, kiddo. Stay safe!" the voice said.

"Back at ya!" Tara said, hanging up. She clapped her hands together. "Well, we'll be expecting some visitors tomorrow. Then you guys can go get some stuff, and your dad, from your place so we can all stay here. We've got to go out to see what we can do about Cap's family, too. Sort of an extended slumber party deal. Cool?"

Nik and Sky nodded. "Excellent!" Stark said. "I've got some guest rooms down the hall."

She led them up a metal, twisting staircase that looked like it belonged in some artist's loft and down a hallway lined with plain doors. The whole place looked it was rarely used. Like it had been abandoned before anyone had ever had a chance to live in it.

"Are you sure that your dad won't mind everyone staying here?" Sky asked as they trudged, exhausted, down the hall.

It was like someone dipped Tara's expression in iron. "Trust me. He couldn't care less."

_Okay, touchy subject_, Nik thought, storing it away for future reference.

Their side-by-side rooms were practically bare, with stiff blue comforters, two large lamps, and white wood desks and dressers. Each room had its own connected bathroom, stocked with toiletries that looked like they hadn't been touched in years.

Like the air was stuffed full of cotton, the silence was deafening, padded with the obvious; Tara didn't often have visitors to use the rooms.

"Well, my room's down the hall if you guys need me," she said awkwardly. Her words were met with a collage of "Yeah"s and "Thanks"s and "See you in the morning"s.

The clothes Tara had lent them were surprisingly comfortable. He splashed his face with water, careful to avoid his bandaged cut. Drying his face with a stiff towel, he met his own eyes in the mirror and did a double take, almost crying out. He wasn't sure why. He looked normal. He was fine. He wasn't sure why he suddenly felt like panicking, like some force was pressing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe. He didn't know why he had felt like shattering the mirror with his bare hands right then to get rid of whatever it was he saw. He didn't know.

But he did know.

For a split second, in the time it takes to blink, his normally sharp green eyes had changed.

His irises had been streaked with black, the same pitch black of the poison that had run through his veins.

But the second he saw it was there, it was gone again.

**OOoooOOO spooOOOookyyyyyy... What will happen to our ginger assassin? None know but I! Muahaha! **


	5. Lovely Views

**A/N: Sorry this took kind of long. The House of Hades came out two weeks ago, and you know how that is. In other news; chapter titles have been added, because just "Chapter 1" is boring as heck. Also, a big shout out to imaginerocketman on tumblr for supporting this fic since the beginning. I owe you one, girl!**

**In case you were wondering, the ships for this are Pepperony, Clintasha, Thane, SteveXUnknown, and Bruce is a single lady.**

**I don't own the Avengers, but their kids are all mine.**

The house was cute, in a stereotypical house kind of way. It was two storied with a dark, slanted roof and white vinyl siding. Light blue shudders above quaint window boxes framed glass panes that showed a lovely view of curtains, but not much else. The grass was green and cut uniformly, and the property was bordered by a white picket fence. Bushes pressed against the front of the house, and a child-sized red bike—complete with training wheels—lay carelessly near the concrete steps leading to the welcoming blue door. An American flag was suspended from the front of the house near the entrance. In short, it was exactly the kind of all-American house that you would find the Captain living in.

The trio knocked on the door after gingerly stepping over the bicycle. After a few moments, the door opened a crack—as far as the lock chain would allow—and they could plainly see who answered it, despite the small area given to look. A young girl, probably around twelve, peeked around the door, her dark blue eyes wide with suspicion and fear. Honey colored hair fell to her shoulders, framing her round face.

"C-can I help you?" the girl said, her voice shaking slightly, although she did a pretty good job of hiding it.

"Yeah, are you Mary Anne Rogers?" Sky asked, her tone gentle and friendly.

At Sky's consoling voice, the girl let down her guard a bit and nodded. "That's me."

"Well Mary Anne, have you already been contacted by SHIELD about your dad?" Sky asked as soothingly as possible. The poor girl was still as stiff as a rock.

If at all possible, Mary Anne's eyes got wider. Worry and fear laced her voice as she asked "What do you mean?"

Tara shot a glare at Nik and hissed "No one came and told her?"

Nik shrugged. "It was the second time it happened," he guessed. "It was probably so big of a deal that they forgot."

"Well, great," Tara rolled her eyes. "What faith I now have in the one agency that actually knows what's going on half the time. Now we have to be the bearers of bad news."

"What bad news?" the twelve year old asked. "What happened with my Dad?"

The trio had a silent conversation and came to an agreement; there would be no waiting for a senior officer to explain the situation. They'd have to do it themselves.

Tara sighed. "Kid, it's a little difficult to explain. We should probably explain this to your mom first."

"My mom went out."

"Do you know when she'll be back?"

Mary Anne shrugged. "I don't know. She went out six years ago." She hissed through gritted teeth "Now where. Is. My. Dad."

The three exchanged a look; part pity, part dread. This girl was trembling like a blade of grass in the moments before a storm. And, considering the circumstances, those moments might be exactly where they were.

Eventually, Nik sighed, having lost the silent "you go tell her" war. "You might want to sit down. This'll take a while."

She took the news very well for someone as consistently nervous as she obviously was. Of course, it could have been the presence of the kid that ran into the living room just after they had finished explaining what had happened.

He tore in like a gust of wind in the summer; loud, strong, and uncontrollably excited. His caramel hair stuck up in a thousand directions, and his eyes were wild with joy. He was like a carbon copy of Mary Anne, but if she was the moon, he was the sun. If they didn't look so alike, Nik never would have guessed they were related, much less siblings, as he was now sure that they were.

"Annie! Annie guess what?" the little boy squealed as he danced around in an "I-have-to-pee" dance that all eight year olds seem to know.

"Um, what is it?" Mary Anne said shakily, trying to blink away the tears swimming in her eyes and plastering on a smile to please the small boy in front of her.

"I finally beat Cynthia!" he practically shouted, enthusiastically pointing to the DS in his hands.

"Ah, no way!" said Sky, smiling. "Is that an old Pokemon Diamond game?"

The little boy turned to the trio, only looking a little surprised that there were three strangers sitting stiffly on his couch. "It's Pearl, actually," he corrected, grinning. "I've already caught Palkia."

Sky shrugged. "I was always a Dialga girl myself, although Gen 7 still has the best legendaries. Congrats, anyway."

"Thanks!" the boy said, beaming at being complimented by someone who was obviously such a pro trainer. He turned back to his sister. "It took me like four times, but I finally—" His voice trailed off as he read his sister's face. "What's wrong?"

Mary Anne sniffed and tried to smile, blinking furiously. "Um, Travis," she said delicately as she placed his DS on the coffee table and took both of his tiny hands in hers. "These are some people who work with Dad. And, um," her dark blue eyes were filling with tears. "Dad's not going to be home for a little while."

"Is he okay?" Travis said, Mary Anne's worry spreading.

Her lips were stretched thin in her attempt to smile. The girl was good at being strong when she needed to be, no doubt about it. "I'm sure he's fine, Trav. But before he comes home, we're going to have to stay somewhere else okay? These people say that we're not going to be safe here, so we're going to stay somewhere that is for a while."

"I've got room at my place," Tara interjected. "It's fortified for this kind of thing."

Mary Anne stood from her perch on the couch, lifting her chin high in attempt to look confident. "I want to know exactly who you are before we go anywhere with you."

Nik and Sky flashed their SHIELD badges. "Special agents Barton and Barton," Nik introduced. "My name is Nikolai, and this is my sister Skylar. We're pretty, ah, _acute_ to your situation. Our mom's in the same boat as your dad right now."

Mary Anne blinked. "Barton? Like, Natasha and Clint Barton?"

"The second generation," Sky nodded. "Nik here got the short end of the stick, as far as looks go. Fortunately, I was born gorgeous, but you can't really see the family resemblance here."

Nik scowled (Contrary to Sky's teasing, he was a pretty attractive guy).

"I'm Tara Stark," the brunette said. "Yeah, like the Tony Stark kind of Stark. I've got the Tower prepped for any attacks if they come."

Travis' face wrinkled in confusion. "What kind of attacks?"

A howl coursed through the air, sounding too close for comfort. It shouldn't be comfortable in the first place. After all, what was a wolf doing in the suburbs of Brooklyn? But Nik, Sky, and Tara knew why.

Sky all but flew to the window, gently brushing aside the checkered curtains. A lovely view of a well-groomed backyard, but not much else. A wooden swing set, a vegetable garden, a picnic table. But there, just visible over the back fence, across the street, standing on the sidewalk the next block over, acting like it belonged there.

A shadow beast, a large timber wolf formed of swirling black smoke. It turned its head in her direction, and seemed to meet her violet eyes before tipping back its head and letting out another out-of-place howl. This time, its call was echoed by others. Sky counted in her head. One, two, four howls. Counting the one visible through the back yard, there was one for each of them. Something told her that this was not unplanned.

"This kind of attack," Sky whispered, turning to face the group. "We should bail. This place isn't ready for this kind of thing. If we get somewhere where we can fight them all, we can come back and get your stuff later." Mary Anne nodded.

The kids sprinted to the front door, pulling on tennis shoes and coats to brace themselves for the crisp autumn air. Nik helped Travis button his puffy kid-jacket just as Mary Anne opened the door and screamed. Another shadow beast stood menacingly on the front lawn, with two more close behind it. When they caught sight of the girl, they rushed forward, slinking across the lawn with dark paws and bared, giant teeth.

Tara pushed Mary Anne—who was frozen with her mouth open in shock and fear—out of the way and slammed the door shut, flicking several locks into place and pushing her full body weight against it. Not three seconds later, the shadow beasts bashed into the wood, almost flinging Tara off the door. The barrage didn't stop, and the door continued to shake and threaten to blow off its hinges.

"I can't hold it for long!" she shouted to Sky and Nik. "Get the kids into a closet or something; we're going to have to fight here!"

The twins nodded in unison. Mary Anne shooed a protesting Travis into the hallway closet, following closely behind and clicking the door shut behind her. Sky stood guard in front of it, flicking open her bow and uncovering her quiver. Nik drew a gun in one hand and a steel blade in the other.

Tara rolled away from the door, taking up residence behind a table as her wrist repulsors snapped onto her palms.

Suddenly, the attack on the front door stopped. All was quiet. All was still. If they were stupid—which they were not—they could almost hope that the shadow beasts had given up.

Then, all at once, the door fell to the floor with a crack, its hinges snapping and the door jam splintering, and the sliding doors leading to the back yard shattered. The shadow beasts burst in, snarling and immediately lunging for their throats. Tara just managed to blast one into the next room before it landed on top of her. Nik shot one in the head and slashed at another with his knife. Sky flung an arrow into the shoulder of a fourth beast.

But apparently, it wasn't going to be that easy. The timber wolves simply got up and continued trying to maul them, although limping from their wounds.

"They're not dying!" Tara yelled.

"Yeah, noticed!" Nik shouted back, slashing and hacking with his knife after putting his gun away upon realizing that he was just wasting ammunition.

Tara sprinted into the kitchen, getting the same idea. She grabbed a few steak knives from a knife block on the counter and started trying to stab a few of the suckers herself. She wasn't the most skilled with a blade, but she did okay, considering.

But they were fighting a loosing battle, and they knew it. After Nik's poison fiasco, they were wary of the claws and teeth. There were a few close calls, getting more and more frequent with the passing time. And no matter how much damage they inflicted, the wolves seemed to heal themselves with surprising speed. They'd obviously been upgraded from the ones that had attacked the trio just the night before.

Sky felt a tug on her coat sleeve and nearly jumped out of her boots. It was Travis, peeking out from behind the door as Mary Anne tried to pull him back behind the line of hanging coats.

"I can help!" he squeaked in his little eight-year-old voice. "Cover me!" And with that, he darted into the hallway, covering his head with his skinny little arms, as if that would help.

Sky cursed and ran after him, an arrow drawn and poised to shoot at any shadow beast that dared get too close. Mary Anne called after them, looking on the brink of tears, before a wolf lunged at her. She shrieked and slammed the door shut, though emerging from the closet moments later with an umbrella and a small gun that her father had stashed into a shoebox.

Travis and Sky, meanwhile, were zig-zagging across the room as the boy led her to a huge grandfather clock that stood in a corner. He started messing with the cogs and various other clock-ish things while Sky faced the rest of the room, shooting arrows at the beasts that had them cornered.

"Got it!" Travis said, pumping his fist as a square hole opened in the wall next to a clock. He reached inside just as a wolf jumped past Sky's guard, claws outstretched mercilessly towards the boy's chest.

But the shadow beast never made it that far. Travis turned around, holding the object in his hands out in front of him. With the sound of metal striking metal, the beast was thrown back by the force of its own leap. It scrambled to its shadowy feet, whimpering at the blast.

Travis held his father's shield aloft in his arms, it's red, white, and blue paint job slightly dusted with age, but otherwise in perfect condition.

Within a few minutes, all five of them found themselves perched on the kitchen table, weapons thrust out in front of them. The wolves circled the table, surrounding them on all sides. They were trapped, with no way to kill them. Things were not looking good.

Nik and Tara's knives flashed, the Captain's shield reflecting the artificial light. Then Sky knew; these things were totally real, but they were just shadows.

She drew an arrow and held it up to the ceiling.

"Cover your eyes!" She warned. Their arms shielded their faces as Sky pressed a trigger on her bow.

A supernova of light, the flare arrow sent beams of light in every possible direction, vaporizing the beasts like the shadows they were.

In a few moments, it was all over.

The kids glanced around the room after the flare had died down, checking and double checking that the beasts were gone for good before helping each other down. Congratulating each other on a job well done—especially Sky and Travis for breaking out the shield and flare arrow—they flopped onto the couches and chairs as Mary Anne passed out juice pouches from the fridge. The older trio held a silent and unanimous agreement; one was never too old for Capri Sun, especially if you had just fought off a small platoon of vicious wolves made of pure shadow.

Mary Anne cradled her father's shield on her lap.

"He didn't think that he would need it," she whispered.

It probably wouldn't have done him much good, anyway.

The Bartons took their time packing their bags while Tara waited with the Rogers's in the car. None of them were overly worried about another attack. Whoever sent them would figure out that the kids knew how to destroy their beasts now.

Sky threw clothes into her bag, not really caring that they weren't folded—most of her clothes were perpetually rumpled anyway. One extra pair of tall leather boots, her army jacket, a few toiletries, a picture of the family at Disney World, back when Nik and Sky were six. Then, of course, was the vast collection of weapons that she had scattered around her room in various hiding places. She took a separate backpack for these things. She never knew when she would need them.

Then she was just about done. She gazed around her room; its brightly colored walls, its Fall Out Boy and White Stripes and Harry Potter posters. Its walk-in closet filled with ripped skinny jeans and band tee shirts and a Lord of the Rings boxed set. She realized, with sudden sadness, that she may never see her room again.

Then again, in her family's line of work, that thought came often.

She shut her door softly as she left the room, as if apologizing for not being able to return soon.

She poked her head into Nik's room down the hall, where he was still packing his weapons.

"I'm going up to the lookout," she informed him.

Nik looked up from trying to fit all his guns into his backpack without making it obvious to the world that he was carrying all his guns in his backpack. He sighed.

"Alright, but be quick. We should get going soon."

At the very end of the hallway, a door opened up to a wooden spiral staircase where it appeared that there would only be closet space. Upon climbing said tower one had a lovely view of the surrounding woods from the top of the lookout a story above the rest of the house.

Sky reached the top of the tower and leaned against the rail, taking in the splendor of the trees below, which were just beginning to change color from dark greens to bright oranges and golds and reds. The woods were truly beautiful around this time of autumn. Sky could spend hours looking out at them and simply thinking.

She felt a weird rustling around her foot, like a stray leaf was blowing in the breeze and flapping against her boot. But it was too stiff to be a leaf, and no tree would be able to blow anything up here.

Looking down, she saw a simple picture wedged in between two floorboards. Not just any picture, as she realized when she picked it up to get a better look. It was her parent's favorite wedding picture, the one her father never let out of his sight. Why would he be so careless to leave it up here?

As close to the ground as she was when she crouched, it was only a matter of time before she noticed them. The floorboards around her feet looked charred and blackened, like someone had set a fire up here. But she knew that couldn't be possible.

Fearing the worst, the worst turned out to be exactly what she got.

Skylar Barton stood in the middle of the watch tower, taking in the floor around her. The boards were blackened with strange markings that she had seen before.

The floor was emblazoned with symbols that marked the disappearance of an Avenger. And it seemed as though it was her father that was gone.

**A/N: Well, they were going to have to find out eventually.**


End file.
